


Dragon Age: Ashes we were

by JoelJansenD



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Darkspawn, Korcari Wilds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 09:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18635464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoelJansenD/pseuds/JoelJansenD
Summary: Through a series of catastrophic events, a highborn warrior and a champion of the Maker find themselves in between the weak and the monsters that would destroy them.





	Dragon Age: Ashes we were

Daveth's breath turned to icy clouds in the swamp's surprisingly cold air. The Korcari Wilds wasn't exactly known for its forgiving climate, but this was worse than he, or any one of his fellow recruits, had expected. Drops of sweat, the result of a day's march, dripped from his brow. How the others managed for so long in their metal armour was beyond him.  
    'Tired already, thief?' asked the tall, armour-clad warrior, who walked shortly ahead of him.  
    'Yeah,' said Daveth, 'tired of your nonsense, Brute.'  
    'Just a bit further. I'm sure we'll find a decent spot somewhere.'  
     _A decent spot? A decent spot to bury me if we don't stop soon,_ thought Daveth, unwilling to discuss it any further. People like the Brute wouldn't change their minds if their life depended on it anyway.  
    'Can't we just set up camp around here?' asked Jory, heaving from the heavy plating of his armour.  
    'If you're that determined on freezing to death, don't let me stop you.'

Daveth looked at Jory, surprised by their new friend's demeanour. Judging from the knight's face, he felt the same. But they both knew that staying behind in this cold would be far from advisable, especially considering the monsters that have plagued the wilds these last few months. So they followed the towering warrior through the winds. As promised, the Brute found a place he found to be satisfactory further ahead.  
    'I hope you're any good with that bow, Thief,' said the Brute. 'Otherwise, we're going to bed with an empty stomach.'  
    'Right, right. No pressure.'  
    'Warden,' he continued, 'scout the area for blighters. I don't feel like being ambushed by the bastards tonight.'  
    'Have you ever seen darkspawn, Rendon?' Alistair asked. 'Those things couldn't ambush us if we were blind and deaf.'  
    'Be that as it may, I don't want to leave things to chance. Ser Jory, take care of the tents. I'm going to chop some firewood.'

* * *

    'Andraste's tits Brute,' said Daveth. 'Where did you learn to cook?'  
    'Orlais.'  
    'Since when do Highever guardsmen go to Orlais?'  
    'I wasn't always–'  
    'You're from Highever?' Jory interrupted. 'My wife, Helena, is from Highever too. We're expecting our first in a few months. She works in her father's bakery. Do you know her?'  
    Daveth saw a quick flash of surprise on the Brute's face. 'The one near the castle?'  
    'Yes, that's the one!' said Jory. The knight climbed to his feet and walked to the creek, ready to relieve himself after a long day's march.  
    'You, my friend,' whispered Daveth, 'look like a man who just found out he's about to have a bastard.'  
    'Probably not,' said the Brute, 'I don't think her brother can get pregnant.'  
    'Really? Hey Ser Knight,' yelled Daveth. 'Guess who exalted your brother-in-law?'  
    'Guess who... exalted? Do I even want to know what that means?'  
    'You know, explored his Deep Roads? Polish his staff? Shook his–'  
    'Shut up,' interrupted Alistair suddenly. He looked at the Brute. 'Darkspawn are closing in.'  
    'How do you know?' he asked.  
    'I'll explain later. We have to act now if we want to get the drop on them.'

Alistair warned them of what they were about to see, but it did little to prepare them. Six creatures whose skins were covered in fleshy growths and coloured by little more than dark red streams of blood oozing from every orifice on their bodies. Their beast-like grunts all but muted the terrified screaming of a soldier, whose mangled arms were wrapped tightly around the rope that tied his neck to an oak tree, one last struggle to survive. The tree's bark had blackened as if disease had struck it.  
    'Maferath's hairy arse,' said Daveth, 'We're going to be fighting those things?'  
    'Warden,' the Brute followed, 'What's the plan?'  
    'Hit them with your sword until they stop climbing back up usually works.'  
    'Are you fucking serious?' He looked back at the darkspawn and saw that the man had given up. 'Thief, do you see the two archers atop the hill? Fucking pelt them with arrows. I don't care if they hit, as long as they can't fire back.'  
    'What? Why would I–'  
    'Because I don't want arrows in my face, now shut up. Warden, you and I charge shield-first into the warriors, drive them apart to create space for Jory to swing that massive sword of his, alright?'


End file.
